


Live (and Love) From New York

by seekrest



Series: Maybe In Another Universe [5]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Office Shenanigans, Peter & MJ are too ambitious for their own good, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Romanticizing being a workaholic, snl au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21937651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: “Are you following me?” She asks indignantly, the man giving her a dirty look in response.“No? I work here.”It dawns on her before she asks it, a sinking feeling in her stomach that it wasn’t an executive’s son but worse - someone who would be right there with her in the trenches, dreading the fact that she’d already made something of an enemy on her first day.“SNL?” Michelle asks, sighing internally as he replies.“Yeah.”
Relationships: Felicia Hardy & Michelle Jones, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Maybe In Another Universe [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711183
Comments: 77
Kudos: 200
Collections: Spideychelle Secret Santa - 2k19





	1. Monday.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perfectlystill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlystill/gifts).



> Merry Christmas to perfectlystill! Word on the street is she’s been wanting a SNL AU for awhile and as her secret Santa, I’m more than happy to oblige :)

  
**MONDAY**

“Fuck, I’m exhausted.”

Michelle rolled her eyes as she watched Eugene stumble into the room, taking a sip from her cup of coffee as he plopped down in the seat next to her.

“You say that every Monday, like somehow it’s going to magically change.”

Eugene snorts. “And _you_ bounce back with some kind of quippy shit, acting like you got a full night’s sleep. Face it Jones, you’re as spent as I am.”

“Maybe,” Michelle shrugs, setting her coffee down as she glares at him, “But I have the good sense _not_ to complain about it every week. Suck it up or get another job, Eugene.”

He rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair - Michelle noting that he’d chosen the obnoxious yellow pair of socks rather than the obnoxious green ones, a habit of his - alternating what socks he wore based on whether or not he got laid the day before. 

He seems to notice where her eyes went, laughing as he says, “Maybe you just need to relax, Michelle. Get over yourself by getting under someone else.” 

Michelle wrinkled her nose as he smirked at her. It was a disgusting thing to think about Eugene having a sex life, much less advertising it - a man who insisted on being called _Flash_ as if that was some kind of term of endearment rather than making her feel sorry for the women he slept with. 

But sometimes Michelle wondered if it was just her own inherent and unexplainable jealousy - if that wasn’t too strong of a term - that an asshole like Eugene could somehow get laid on the regular while she couldn’t remember the last time she’d even been on a date.

That was a lie, thinking back to that failed date with that one guy in accounting - a nice, if not entirely too eager and boring guy named Brad who talked incessantly over dinner at some overpriced restaurant only to follow it up with bad sex in his apartment - leaving her hungry and unsatisfied in more ways than one. 

It’s wasn’t as if she didn’t get asked out or had options, thinking to the phone numbers she’d acquired anytime she schmoozed at parties or the random messages she had from several people on the dating apps she hated using but couldn’t go through with deleting - as if doing so would be some signal to the universe that she was resigning herself to be single forever.

But it was ridiculous in a sense, that Eugene of all people, was doing better in the realm of sex and relationships than she was.

Michelle wasn’t really interested in a relationship, thinking back to her last good one with Harry from college - another nice guy that she’d fancied herself in love with only to breakup when they realized that the way they envisioned their future went in two entirely different directions. 

He wanted a stay at home trophy wife, she wanted to be head writer for Saturday Night Live. 

They were never meant to last. 

And while they both had made some progress on their plans - getting the invitation to Harry’s wedding in the spring in the mail last week and Michelle sitting in the writer’s room with Eugene, waiting for everyone else to file in - there was still the feeling that in the breakup game, Michelle was losing. 

Maybe Eugene was right, but she wasn’t about to admit that, watching as more people started to trickle im before leaning over to whisper to him. 

“If missionary’s your go to position for everything then I pity the poor woman who had to suffer being under you last night.”

“You’d be lucky to get some of this.” He bites back, Michelle hearing the snicker from Felicia as she sat down across from her. 

“Luck is not what _I_ would call it. I’ve seen your dick, Eugene.” Felicia motioned with her fingers, Michelle barely holding back a laugh as he glared at her. 

“No one asked you, Hardy.” 

“Really?” Felicia grins, leaning forward - Michelle smirking as she says, “I seem to remember you begging me to--”

“Okay, enough.” A familiar voice cuts through the room, Michelle turning to see Harrington sigh as he walked in, “Can we _please_ go one day, just one, without hearing another dick joke from you Felicia?”

Her eyes narrow, Michelle watching in amusement as she says, “Says the man who won’t let me say p--”

“Morning everyone!” Peter Parker walks in, disrupting things, Michelle almost rolling her eyes at how chipper he was when it so early, it wasn’t something she’d come to expect.

But the room shifts when he walks in, as it always does - the air feeling lighter in a way Michelle didn’t let herself think too much about. 

“Morning, Parker. Still got that stick up your ass?” Michelle tells him, seeing Peter’s stupid grin as he saunters up to the table, sitting beside Felicia. 

“Morning, Jones. Keeping it safe and sound, just for you.”

“For fuck’s sake.” She hears Eugene mutter beside her but she doesn’t care, Peter giving her a wink as she rolls her eyes, smiling as she turns her attention back to Harrington. 

* * *

It was a game between the two of them now, a light-hearted one after almost six years of working together. 

It hadn’t always been the case - especially when they first met. They’d both been fresh out of college and inducted into the SNL family the same year - Michelle as a script assistant and Peter as an understudy.

Neither of them in the jobs they wanted just yet but having the same kind of ambition worked against them, repelling the other like charged magnets. 

It’d been brutal, the first year - a never-ending cycle of learning how the life worked, Michelle thinking that her dreams of growing up watching the show didn’t compare to the actual hell that working on it was. 

The adjustment to the unique work-life balance that didn’t exist at SNL was only made worse by Peter - being the special kind of annoying that grated her nerves. 

* * *

Michelle was exhausted and the day hadn’t even begun.

It was her first day, the first time she’d actually be working at the place she’d been striving to be at for years. 

She’d bounced around in college at a variety of different late night shows, knowing her ability to intern was in no small part because of luck and the blessing of professors who allowed her to use her internship hours as practical experience for her degree. 

It helped move her up, the experience but also the connections from good professors and former bosses - hating that it wasn’t what you knew but who, even if Michelle worked her ass off to show she was good for it.

But she did it - she’d done her time - and now she was finally glad to actually be in the 30 Rock building not as a tourist, but as an actual employee.

Michelle knows she’s at the bottom of the totem pole. Beyond the bottom. Below it. But he doesn’t even care.

Michelle is going to work at SNL and she is going to love every minute of it. 

Even if everything in the universe had seemingly tried to throw an obstacle in her path today. 

She overslept. Her roommates had thrown a party the night before, stubbing her toe as she left the apartment as she tripped over the trash they’d left behind. 

The MTA was late. She’d stepped onto a puddle accidentally after trying to avoid getting splashed by a taxi, the sneakers she was wearing to walk around the city completely soaked. 

But Michelle was trying hard not to let anything get her down - not to let _anything_ ruin what was, by all accounts, the most significant day of her life so far. 

And she believes that, right up until the moment she walks towards the building with her phone in hand, trying to figure out where exactly she needed to go and body slams into another person.

It’s so vivid and intense, the loss of gravity made worse because whoever he is - a he, because of course a guy would be completely oblivious - reaches his hands out to her only to just fall on top of her, Michelle feeling the bruise already forming as they fall down on the ground, feeling the liquid all over her shirt. 

“Sorry I’m--”

“Watch where you’re going asshole.” Michelle scoffs, pushing him off of her as he scrambles, Michelle groaning as she looks down at her shirt. 

It looks like coffee, _smells_ like coffee but it’s almost cold - glaring at the offending person and meeting brown eyes that turn from apologetic to hard as he says, “Why don’t you watch where _you’re_ going. I wasn’t the one texting.”

“What were you so preoccupied with that you didn’t see me walking in front of you?” Michelle snaps back, the man extending a hand out only for Michelle to ignore it - wincing as she gets up.

Her legs were on fire, her shirt was ruined and it wasn’t even seven am. 

Michelle knew it wasn’t this stranger’s fault but his attitude really didn’t help anything. 

“And not that it matters, but I wasn’t texting,” she replies, “I was trying to figure out what floor I’m supposed to get on.”

The man scowls before pursing his lips, the corner of his mouth turning downward as he gestures towards her shirt.

“Sorry for that. I can try and--”

“Whatever, it’s fine.” Michelle just brushes past him, half-limping as she walks away. 

“Fine.” She hears him answer, exasperated almost - Michelle already pushing the awful encounter out of her head, hoping that the tank top she had underneath wasn’t ruined by the coffee or that there was some kind of gift shop she could try and create another outfit from.

Only to feel like someone was behind her, snapping her head around to see the same stupid guy from before.

“Are you following me?” She asks indignantly, the man giving her a dirty look in response.

“No? I work here.”

Michelle feels her stomach drop, hoping that she hadn’t just called some executive's son an asshole on her first - and now would be her last - day. 

“You work… here?” She asks.

Something passes over his eyes, before shrugging - the kind of nonchalance that meant he was either benefiting from nepotism at being there or was damn good at what they did. 

Ambition was just arrogance dressed properly, as her dad used to say - and this guy had it in spades.

It’d be almost intriguing if she wasn’t so pissed at him for ruining her shirt. 

“Yeah. First day.” He answers. 

It dawns on her before she asks it, a sinking feeling in her stomach that it wasn’t an executive’s son but worse - someone who would be right there with her in the trenches, dreading the fact that she’d already made something of an enemy on her first day. 

“SNL?”

“Yeah.” He answers only to pause, the same realization crawling over him as she sighed. 

_Perfect._

* * *

He was inescapable after that. From one moment to the next, Michelle’s life was altered and there he was - taking up space and invading her existence.

The first day passed by in a blur, Michelle in too much pain from the fall and aggravated from everything else to focus as much as she needed to.

But as the first day gave way to the second, to the third and all the days that followed, she was really starting to regret meeting Peter Parker - a stupid ass name, she learned when they introduced themselves - the way that she did. 

He was smart, funny - a little too much of a try hard. She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly rubbed her the wrong way but he did - Michelle getting the sense that their opposing personalities only served to further push them apart. 

But he was liked, _really_ well-liked. Enough that just made Michelle dislike him even more. 

Michelle can still remember pitching her jokes only to see them never get used, Peter joking with her that maybe she was better off writing puff pieces for the _Post_. Michelle gave as good as she got, wondering aloud if Peter would ever graduate from being a glorified stand-in. 

To anyone else, it probably looked almost like aggressive flirting but there was something about him that aggravated her - thinking there was no way for someone to be as happy-go-lucky as Peter was without being some kind of psychopath. Peter seemed just as annoyed, rolling his eyes anytime she’d walked into the room.

It wasn’t the kind of experience she’d hoped for at her dream job but then Michelle thought, when did the universe ever give her what she wanted without messing with her first?

* * *

“Oh look, here she comes. On the warpath.” Peter snorted, Michelle rolling her eyes as she brushed past him.

“Out of my way understudy. Oh wait,” she turns to him, seeing the way his eyes narrow, “that would actually imply that you have a _chance_ of getting on air. But you don’t, do you?”

“At least I get a chance on stage, Jones. How did that skit of yours go again? Wait, oh that’s right.” Peter snaps his fingers as if a light bulb went off, Michelle scowling as he said, “no one knows what happens because _no one thinks your jokes are funny._ ”

“Fuck off, Parker.”

“Make me, Jones.” 

They stared at each other for a moment, the anger seething through her. He was aggravating, annoying - the worst kind of privileged, obnoxious white boy. The kind of guy who expected their smiles and their charms to be reason enough for people to want to be around them.

And what was worse is that it _worked_ \- people falling all over Peter and how nice he was, how funny, how kind.

If he was or wasn’t, Michelle didn’t know - annoyed that he was there and in her way, only breaking their stare down when her phone started to buzz.

“Better get that.” He almost snarled, turning away as she heard his own phone buzzing.

Michelle doesn’t even dignify him with a response, turning her heels and walking in the opposite direction.

* * *

As the morning meeting droned on, Michelle caught Peter’s eye - holding back a laugh as he made a face at her. 

They weren’t enemies now, hadn’t been for years. She couldn’t even explain why she’d been so against him when she met him, other than the niceness that she had assumed to mean he was hiding something giving way to the reality - that that was just how he was. 

The memory of that first year was almost a blur now, their relationship devolving now into the kind of banter that came easy to Michelle - a friendlier rivalry now that she was a permanent writer and he was one of the main cast. 

Of all the people she would’ve expected me to be friends with when she started, Michelle wouldn’t have ever picked for that person to be Peter. But considering her options, she wasn’t going to complain. 

Especially considering how wrong it could’ve gone - remembering how the nastiness of their feud ended.

* * *

It all brought to a head halfway through their second year, tensions rising at a holiday party as they fought with each other - their words getting meaner as their voices got louder, remembering the smell of his beer-tinged breath as he sneered in her face, saying some kind of insult that she couldn’t recall even for as much as the moment was seared into her memory. 

The fight began from nothing or maybe it was everything, all reaching its breaking point and fueled by the amount of alcohol they’d had in their system.

All Michelle could really remember was how close they had gotten, how tense the moment had felt and more importantly - how alone they were, holed up in some hallway where there was no one else.

She could still remember the way he stared at her, breathing heavy, just inches from her face.

And what happened afterwards was something Michelle could only blame on adrenaline from the fight, leaning forward and kissing him so fiercely that it felt like something from the cheesy romcoms that the staff made fun of. 

They’d fumbled around with each other, Peter pressing her up against the wall, almost in shock as his lips moved against hers. Her hands had a mind of their own, searching every part of him - chasing away the memory of his moan as she started to sink her hands down lower.

Michelle takes a sip of her coffee, willing herself to be in the moment and now in the memory of what happened next, finding some kind of closet that she had been glad later that didn’t have any cameras.

It was stupid - for a number of reasons - having sex in a dimly lit room in a public place. But the hands he’d used to flip her off with had been good in other ways, Michelle thinking she’d almost blacked out - though whether that had been from the orgasm or the alcohol, she wasn’t sure.

Michelle sets her coffee down, looking across the table to catch him staring at her - a smirk on his face as if he somehow could hear her thoughts, wondering if there was some look on her face that gave her a way to where her mind had wandered.

She shook her head, trying to focus on the meeting but failing - her mind going back to what happened in the immediate aftermath, pulling their clothes back on as they tried to rejoin the party.

* * *

“That was… um…” Peter was out of breath and so was she, Michelle hurriedly trying to pull her pantyhose back on.

They’d ripped slightly from Peter pulling them down so fast, frowning when she realized that they looked a little too destroyed to pass off as regular wear and tear, not even considering how her hair just look. 

Michelle glanced over to him, the image of seeing him in a state of undress causing the hot shame to flood through her.

 _What the hell was I thinking?_ Her mind raced, thinking of all the terrible ways that this could pan out.

They were drunk, they were at work, and the thought of how many HR violations could be filed because of the two of them threw her for a loop. 

She couldn’t afford this - lease of all with Peter Parker, refusing to let a mistake like this ruin the best job she’d ever had. 

Michelle was a problem solver and always had been, forcing herself to look him in the eyes. 

“A mistake.” She answers, seeing the way he sways slightly as he tries to button his dress shirt. He keeps fiddling with the buttons, missing them entirely to where Michelle just groans and leans forward to do them herself - Peter surprised as he watched her.

“We shouldn’t have done that.” Michelle says as she finishes with his shirt.

“You’re right,” he nods, so fast he looks like a bobble head. “That wasn’t— we shouldn’t have done that here.”

Relief washed over her, glad he understood. “We could’ve got caught. We would’ve lost our jobs.”

Peter seems to sober up at that, Michelle leaning back as she takes in his appearance. His hair had looked like someone had run their hands through it, which she had - Michelle thinking she’d almost hurt him by how tightly she’d held it as he had rocked his hips against hers. 

But Michelle couldn’t afford to reminisce on a memory that was already a mistake, swallowing that down as she continued.

“So we’re agreed then?” She asked, seeing the way he met her gaze.

“Don’t tell anyone.” Peter answered, Michelle answering in affirmation.

“And we’re not doing that again.”

He shook his head, the glazed look in his eyes looking a little clouded.

“And we’re not doing that again.”

Michelle let out a sigh of relief, nodding her head once more - already trying to move forward in her mind as she adjusted her dress 

“Glad we’re on the same page.” 

* * *

The next time she saw Peter Parker, she avoided him.

It was nearly impossible, the studio wasn’t that big and they were all running around trying to pull off the same show. But Michelle was mortified, partly because she’d allowed her emotions to get the better of her - wondering why _kissing_ Peter had been her way to resolve the argument was a conversation she didn’t want to have with herself, much less sleeping with him.

But she was also embarrassed at how much she enjoyed it, because it was Peter and it’d been awhile - not letting herself really dwell on the fact that it being Peter was the first thing to pop into her mind.

Or that Peter had seemed all too willing to jump right in with her, kissing her like it was something he’d been looking forward to.

But after three weeks passed, well into the new year, Michelle knew they had to stop avoiding each other if they had any chance of making through this job.

Peter beat her to it, cornering her craft services as she browsing what bagel to get.

“Cinnamon raisin? Would’ve taken you for an everything bagel kind of person.”

Michelle whipped around, seeing the half-smile on his face. He looked as awkward as she felt, shifting his weight from one side to the other.

“Yeah it’s— it’s something my dad and I used to do.”

“Oh.” Peter answers and Michelle doesn’t clarify, unsure of where he was going this. She knew she should mention what happened - what _wasn’t_ going to happen again - but now with Peter in front of her, her mind went blank.

“I know we’re not gonna talk about what happened,” Peter whispers, leaning in slightly as he reaches for a bagel. “And I know why, but I just wanted to make sure you were good.”

Michelle gave a sideways glance to a PA who was close by, completely immersed in her notes. Michelle put her hand to her mouth, covering it slightly but giving enough space for Peter to hear her better.

“Yeah I’m fine. It was mutual, you know that right? I started it. I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

Peter only gives a short nod - to the bagel in his hand but Michelle knows it’s for her - seeing some tension release in his shoulders as if he’d anticipated her avoidance of him had been due to something else.

Something she can’t name twists in her gut at that, but she pushes it down, reaching for the cream cheese as she whispers, “Sorry if it wasn’t for you.”

Peter turns to her, only to force his head forward - remembering they were trying to be discreet, Michelle later thinking they had to have been abundantly obvious that they were talking to each other if anyone had been paying attention to them.

No one had, but it wasn’t the point.

“Wasn’t what?” Peter finally asks, Michelle finishing spreading the cream cheese as she throws away the plastic fork she was using. 

Peter does turn to her again then and doesn’t look away, Michelle giving a slight shoulder shake. 

“Mutual.” She takes a bite of her bagel, attempting to look casual and hoping Peter understood what she was doing.

He did, rolling his eyes as someone else walked past - the awkwardness giving way as he whispered, “Yeah it was. But you’re right. Bad idea.”

Michelle just grins, glad he was onto her game of trying to act normally - falling into the kind of arguments they had before but with a little less bite - without really having to dive into the messy situation they’d allowed themselves to be in.

It was something that for anyone else, she would’ve likely had to have had thirty conversations with. Should’ve had to fend off their advances or worse.

But for as frustrating and ambitious and eager as Peter Parker was, he always did know what to do to push her buttons - and he seemed completely in sync with her about what this conversation meant.

That they had made a mutual - albeit drunk - decision to hook up at the holiday party.

That they had both avoided each other and if they continued to do so, it would only be suspicious - and make their jobs harder.

That neither of them were going anywhere and moving forward, they weren’t going to fight anymore - lest they risk a repeat of something that could never happen again.

Peter smirks, winks at her nudging her as he passed.

“Just like that sketch idea you pitched last week. Come on Jones, act like you like your job.”

“How can I, Parker,” Michelle calls out, feeling the grin on her face, “when I know your ugly ass will be the one saying the lines?”

Peter laughs as he walks away but it’s not bitter, Michelle feeling that even if they weren’t explicit - that they each understood each other.

She didn’t let herself think too much about that. 

* * *

Now, years later, Michelle thought thought that even if that night had been by all accounts a mistake - if it had led to something a bit more tolerable.

A friendship - sarcastic maybe, but with a lot less anger. 

To anyone else, especially the interns, it still looked like they hated each other, even if Michelle knew any of their insults were never said with the same kind of vitriol that they had been before.

She could hear them whispering behind her back, the jokes and assumptions that if they finally slept together that they’d resolve whatever sexual tension that the interns all seemed to imagine between them.

 _Jokes on them_ , Michelle thought, even if in a way they had been right - hooking up at that holiday party giving them the kind of release that gave way to whatever kind of relationship they had now. 

It was stupid - so _unbelievably_ stupid, in so many different ways. But that night _had_ bonded them in a way that nothing else really had - both mutually assured that if anyone found out, it would’ve been the kind of gossip that followed them around, not just for sleeping together but acting like a damn cliche and having sex in public like they did. 

The conversation at craft services had just been the confirmation she needed that he understood - something she hadn’t let herself think too much about.

Michelle caught his eye once more before the meeting ended, already dreading the workload they would have because of the pop star who’d be headlining the show this week - listening to her drone on about what she “hoped to gain” from the week.

Peter smirked and so did she, knowing they’d tear the pop star to shreds together next time they saw each other - the only way they got through this hell job that neither of them would trade for the world.

Peter wasn’t her enemy or her competition, almost something like a friend.

Considering her options, Michelle could take it. 


	2. Tuesday.

**TUESDAY**

  
“I’m gonna murder him.”

Peter snorted, Michelle glaring at him as she stabbed a piece of chicken with a fork. The food court was busy, as it always was during lunch time. She’d originally planned on grabbing lunch with Felicia only for her to bail at the last minute, Peter tagging along instead.

They didn’t do this often - meeting for lunch, especially on what was arguably the busiest day of their week. 

But Peter had been right there when Felicia had to cut out, some kind of last minute conversation that Eugene had asked  _ right _ in front of the guest host that week. 

The pop star was just as annoying as Michelle had imagined her to be, her eyes almost rolling to the back of her head for how aggravated she was that Eugene had messed up her plan for the day, just to fuck with the two of them because of Felicia’s comments the day before. 

But the pop star had been all too enamored with Felicia, Eugene asking for her to help right in front of the big boss - making any kind of escape impossible. 

Peter stepped in right when she was going to just call it and grab something from the vending machine - and Michelle, for some inexplicable reason had accepted. 

“You’re not going to murder him. And you should keep your voice down,” Peter’s voice dropped an octave, leaning over as he whispered, “if someone hears you—“

“Let them talk. What are they gonna do? Fire me?” Michelle pointed her fork towards Peter, his eyebrows raising in amusement as he leaned back. 

“You keep giving me shit, Parker and you’ll be next.”

Peter rolled his eyes, grabbing a fry from his plate. “If you did that, then who will listen to you whine about Flash?”

“Don’t call him that,” Michelle mutters, “it’ll just stroke his ego. And trust me, he doesn’t need it.”

“He’s not even here.” Peter says, mouth full of fries as Michelle wrinkles her nose in disgust. 

“Exactly,” she answers, “but he’s like Voldemort. Say his name and he’ll just,” she waves the fork around, accidentally flinging a piece of spinach towards the table next to them.

The people scowled in her direction as Michelle offered a grimace apology, her mouth forming into a scowl as Peter began to snicker.

“You’re giving  _ Flash _ way too much power here, Michelle.”

“And you,” she whispered conspiratorially, “are getting on my last nerves.”

Peter doesn’t get the chance to answer because lo and behold - just as she feared - his mouth drops, Eugene’s voice grating on her nerves as he walks up to them.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Parker and Jones on a lunch date.”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “Sorry if the concept of friendship is too foreign to you, Eugene. Just because a man and woman are seen together doesn’t mean they’re fucking.”

Peter catches her eye, Michelle knowing instantly where his mind went - the second time this week she’s thought of their holiday party hookup. 

Thankfully Eugene’s too preoccupied with himself to notice, saying, “ _ Please _ . Friendship between you nerds would be an upgrade. I thought you hated each other.”

“We do. Planning each other’s demise right up until you walked up.” Peter countered, winking at Michelle before he said, “Then again, I think we could come up with a truce and figure out a way to get rid of you first.”

“Oh you heard about that too?” Eugene answers, scoffing as he says, “I know layoffs during the holidays are tacky but with management,” he waves a hand towards the ceiling, “what else is new?”

“Wait, layoffs?” Michelle asks, feeling a churn of something almost like an alarm in her gut.

She’d heard the rumors, they came in waves every year - though never around this time. The ratings were fine but word on the street was that the executives were fishing for new blood, something Michelle always chalked up as a sadistic way for management to put a fire under their asses to work harder.

But if Eugene had heard of it - someone who was blithely unaware of anything aside from his own reflection - than Michelle let herself consider the possibility that it might be true. 

Peter snapped to attention too, leaning forward as he asked, “You know they just give us that shit every year. It’s a business tactic, trying to get us to work harder.”

Eugene shrugs, attempting to steal a fry from Peter’s plate only for his hand to be slapped away, glaring at him as he says, “I don’t know man, I just know what I heard. And since I’m currently sleeping with Harrington’s daughter,” Eugene smirks, Michelle rolling her eyes so hard it hurts, “At least I know I’m safe.”

“What a gentleman. She’s lucky to have you.” Michelle deadpanned, Peter meeting her eyes as she shook her head.

“Whatever Jones. When you’re out of a job come the new year, you’ll be wishing you were nicer to me.” He puffs out his chest, turning away as he says, “I got pull.”

Michelle watches him walk away, eyes narrowing as she does so only to turn to Peter, catching his steady gaze on her.

“You think he’s full of it?” He asks, Michelle smirking.

“Of course he is. He’s Eugene. He doesn’t know how to be anything  _ but  _ a piece of shit.”

But even as she says the words, Michelle can’t avoid the feeling in her gut - wondering if she’d be the one who would be put on the chopping block.

She’d been doing fine, some of the material she’d written lately hadn’t been her best, her face contorting into a grimace when she remembered the  _ Vulture  _ article that had torn her last skit up into shreds.

Peter must be thinking along the same lines, especially since he’d been in the skit, saying, “But just to be safe, maybe we should brainstorm?”

Michelle nods absentmindedly before meeting his eyes, seeing the conviction and slight fear in his eyes.

This was his dream just as much as it was hers. And bullshit or no bullshit - it wasn’t a job either of them wanted to lose anytime soon.

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

* * *

Brainstorming it turned out, included meeting up for bagels later - Michelle camping out in her shared office space with Felicia who was still -  _ fuck Eugene  _ \- preoccupied with some demand that the pop star had given.

Michelle really had to remember the girl’s name if she was going to make fun of her properly. 

“What the fuck, Parker? I thought you wanted to brainstorm not load up on carbs.” Michelle asks as Peter walks in, a carton full bagels and variety of cream cheeses. 

Craft services was fine but it was clear that Peter had gotten some intern to fetch something else from them, noting that it was from her favorite bagel place down the street.

Peter snorted, taking a massive bite of an everything bagel as Michelle studied him, glancing at the name on the box.

“You stalking me?”

“Huh?” Peter asks, the answer muffled since his mouth was full of the bagel - Michelle nodding towards the box.

“Miro’s. It’s my favorite.”

Peter’s face transforms into something that looks like a grin, chewing the food in his mouth and swallowing before saying, “I’m not stalking you. It’s mine too.”

Michelle doesn’t know how to answer that, Peter opening the box and adjusting towards her. 

She glances at the contents, eyebrows raising before looking back at him. 

“Did you— cinnamon raisin?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I figured we could cut our time in half if I went ahead and ordered. You don’t have to pay me back.” 

“I don’t need charity, Parker. I’m not unemployed yet.”

They both freeze, Michelle cringing as she shakes her head. “Too soon?”

Peter nods, shuddering as if she’d shocked him. “Definitely too soon.”

Michelle grabs a bagel instead of trying to smooth it over, glancing at the variety of cream cheeses he brought instead. 

“Where’s the plain?” 

Peter rolls his eyes, moving a container out of the way to hand it to her. Michelle takes it, seeing Peter quirk his lips from the side of his mouth. 

“The plan,” he says, a mischievous look on his face - one that reminds her of how he looked in the meeting yesterday, “is to blow their fucking minds.”

* * *

“This is shit.”

“No it’s not.” Peter sighs, Michelle glaring at him as she paces the room - Felicia walking in with a surprised look on her face.

“What the fuck happened here?”

Michelle and Peter share a look before staring back at Felicia, Michelle wincing at the mess they've made of their office.

The massive whiteboard that Michelle usually kept immaculate - organizing story ideas in tight, contained boxes drawn by dry-erase markers was complete chaos - Peter having taken over that particular part of the brainstorming while Michelle had spouted off ideas to him.

She wasn’t sure what time it was though from Felicia’s reappearance could guess that it was past midnight, real work just about to begin. 

Tuesdays were hell. They had been for six years. But if Michelle wanted to keep the job that had been her dream, she’d live through thirty Tuesdays in a row to keep it.

“You heard the bullshit Flash’s been saying? About cutbacks?” Peter asks, Michelle studying Felicia intently.

A part of her hoped that it really was just bullshit, being less inclined to believe Flash about anything he said - but any doubt that she had was whisked away the minute she looked at Felicia’s face, seeing the way her nostrils flared and her green eyes somehow grow dark as she says, “Yeah. Why do you think I’ve been his little errand girl all damn night?”

She nods towards the dry erase board. “What’s happening here?”

Peter stands up, wiping off some crumbs from his shirt - Michelle wrinkling her nose in disgust as he does it, when he says, “Trying something new. Michelle’s told me that you two usually write sketches separate then workshop them together?”

“Yeah.” Felicia nods, “helps the flow.”

“I was thinking for this week, combine forces. With me, since I’m with Ned usually anyway.”

Michelle sends Felicia a pleading look, hoping she’s communicating the sense of desperation she’s feeling as Felicia takes a step forward, narrowly avoiding a coffee cup that Peter had missed the trash can with - studying the white board.

She’s silent for a beat, both Michelle and Peter exchanging glances - Peter looking hopeful, eyebrows raised almost as a suggestion that what they were doing was possible. 

It wasn’t completely revolutionary - different casts ad writers over the years had revolving styles for how they pulled off the show.

But whatever the case - the rumor was that what had been working for years wasn’t anymore, Michelle hoping that Felicia would use her usual brand of fuck you sarcasm to help them.

She shouldn’t have doubted her, watching as she turns her back the dry erase board and looks back at them - eyes wide and smile wide as she says, “Sounds like a party, lovers.”

Felicia grabs a marker, twirls it around in her hand and smiles at Michelle. 

“Let’s do this.”


	3. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

**Wednesday**

“This is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Peter says, running his hand through his hair for the third time in as many minutes. “This is _genius_.” 

Michelle just squints at the whiteboard again, folding her arms as she leans against the desk as Felicia moves to make room for her - Felicia being perched on the edge almost like a cat as she brings a hand to her chin.

“It’s simple,” Felicia begins as MIchelle shakes her head.

“It’s cliche.”

“It’s _effective_ ,” Peter argues, putting his hand down and motioning towards the panels he’s all but drawn on the white board. “Look at this. If we can get Betty to--”

“Betty’s _not_ gonna want to play the dumb blonde _again_ , Peter. Even if it’s a meta critique on Hollywood,” Michelle points out, Felicia humming beside her. 

“What?” Michelle asks, Felicia tilting her head before gracefully lifting herself off the desk - Michelle wondering not for the first time if Felicia was an acrobat or a dancer in a past life as Felicia starts wiping some stage directions off the board.

“Hey, what are you--”

“Trust me, lover,” Felicia says, Peter staring at her quizzically as Felicia uncaps a dry erase marker, “MJ’s right.” 

Michelle smirks as Peter shoots her a look, only for the two of them to watch in silence as Felicia nudges some dialogue and stage directions around - the light going off for the both of them as Michelle unfolds her arms and stands.

“That’s it,” she says, Peter backing up a little and running his hand through his hair once again.

“Felicia, you’re incredible,” Peter says, Felicia capping the marker back on before throwing her long platinum hair over her shoulder. “ _Obviously_ ,” she replies, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall just as Michelle and Peter look over to it. “But this isn’t going to be so incredible if we can’t get this down in time for the read through.” 

“We have three hours,” Peter says, only for his stomach to grumble as Michelle holds back a laugh.

“You think you’re gonna make it, Parker?”

“Course I will, Jones,” Peter says with a wink, Michelle catching Felicia’s eyeroll out of the corner of her eye as he moves to grab his jacket. “But since you already have your laptop up, why don’t I go grab some fuel for the three of of us and we can finish it off?”

“Why am I not surprised that you’re leaving when the work needs to get done?” Michelle counters, Peter laughing as he shrugs his jacket on.

“I’ll be back in fifteen. Don’t have too fun without me.”

“Too late,” Felicia calls out as Peter waves goodbye, Michelle rolling her own eyes only to be taken aback by the seriousness of Felicia’s expression.

“What?”

“Don’t _what_ me,” Felicia says, eyeing her up and down. “You’re really okay with this skit?” 

Michelle frowns at her, looking at the storyboard they’ve been working on for the better part of twelve hours and back to Felicia. “Yeah? Why--”

“Cause I know you, MJ and I know you don’t like putting in real life to your stuff.”

Michelle blanks, blinking at her in confusion a few times as she says, “Felicia, I don’t get what you’re—“

“The meet cute between Gwen and Reilly? The banger back and forth? You _really_ gonna tell me Peter got this out of nowhere?”

Whatever Felicia’s trying to express, Michelle objectively doesn’t understand - shaking her head a few times and going to argue only for her stomach to drop when Felicia says, “The hookup in the closet is a bit much right?”

Michelle freezes, clamping her lips together as she scrambles to figure out what Felicia is talking about because she couldn’t _possibly_ be talking about that when Felicia says, “I mean it wasn’t at a Christmas party, I’ll give you that.”

“You know?” Michelle blurts out, inwardly wincing only to feel a wave of mortification as Felicia sighs, the exasperation dripping from her voice as she nods.

“Of course I know, you think I don’t know everything that happens in this building? _Please_ ,” Felicia says flippantly, as if she hasn’t just unraveled everything in Michelle’s world about her and Peter’s relationship for the past few years.

_Did everyone know? Is that why the rumors won’t quit? Does Eugene know and that’s why he’s throwing around the layoffs as some long game weird bait? Do the higher ups know? Oh God, does Peter know and just hasn’t—_

“MJ, you can stop spiraling, your secret’s safe with me. _Been_ safe actually,” Felicia says, Michelle shaking herself out of said spiral as she looks back at Felicia.

“How did you—“

“You’re not the only one who was having a little fun at that holiday party. Kitty in security is really good with her hands,” Felicia says with a wink, Michelle letting out a sharp laugh as Felicia continues, “And you better be glad I _was_ there. If anyone else would’ve seen you two, that would’ve been your last holiday party.”

“Why _didn’t_ you say anything?” Michelle asks, only to see Felicia frown before she scoffs.

“I’m not a snitch. Plus, it’s been way more fun seeing the two of you dance around each other the past few years. Though with this skit,” Felicia says, pointing her thumb towards the white board once again, “it’s anyone’s guess how long that lasts.”

Michelle says nothing as she stares at the storyboard once more, pieces that she arguably should’ve put together long before Felicia had ever pointed it out falling into place.

It was a meta and a spoof on some new rom com that had terrible ratings with a twist - set up with an office romance that now, Michelle seeing it for what it is, is a thinly veiled reference to her and Peter’s friendship for the past few years.

The planned speech from the ‘leading man’, the obstacles to the plot, even the setting - all of it could be taken from their interactions from the past few years. Something in Michelle burns at the idea that Peter would use their friendship like this for a skit, but something even greater twists up her insides at wondering if he did it on _purpose_.

Michelle quickly dismisses that thought as quickly as it comes, if only for how excited Peter was about the whole thing. If there’s anything that she knows about Peter in the years since that awful day, she knows he’s nothing if not honest - incapable of holding back his facial expressions to save his life. 

“Don’t get your panties in a wad,” Felicia says with a smirk, nudging Michelle playfully as she says, “I just wanted to check in on _you_ , make sure you’re good with all of this.” 

Michelle swallows, looking from Felicia back to the storyboard - any feeling of being uncomfortable shoved away when she says, “It’s a good skit.” 

Felicia nods knowingly. “It _is_. Might be the best one we’ve done all season. Or the worst. It’s anyone’s guess.” 

She folds her arms, leaning back against the desk right next to Michelle who just stares at her until she turns her attention back to the storyboard. 

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Felicia asks, Michelle summoning up a courage she doesn’t feel as she nods.

“Of course.” 

  
  
**Thursday**

“Are you doing okay?” 

Michelle snaps her head up to see Cindy looking at her with a confused, if not concerned expression on her face - Michelle quickly nodding as she lowers her laptop and says, “Yeah, why what’s up?”

“The set’s not gonna fit into the shot,” Cindy says as she gestures to the contraption that the crew had built in less than twenty-four hours, years of working at SNL and the turnaround of skilled craftsman creating things that had only previously existed in her mind so quickly being something that she’s still not sure she’ll ever get used to. 

For anyone else, Michelle would’ve tried to quickly handle it or delegate it to someone else but Cindy was her favorite PA who was going places. If Cindy didn’t think something was working, Michelle was going to listen. 

She closes her laptop completely, setting aside before walking over to where Cindy is gesturing to - listening as Cindy explains how the height of the set was cool looking but would be nearly impossible to shoot. 

Yet walking over to where the set is being placed in advertently places her within eye distance of Peter, who hasn’t seen her yet but is laughing at some joke that an intern made. 

The realization of what Felicia had said about their skit bothered Michelle, if bothered was even the right word. Any time she saw Peter, she would half-convince herself to confront him about the skit idea only to immediately backtrack at how mortifying it would be if he didn’t see what Felicia did. 

Which is what Michelle continued to reason with herself, trusting Felicia enough to know that she wouldn’t bullshit her but also recognizing that if Peter himself hadn’t put two and two together - Michelle didn’t want to be the one to connect those dots for him. 

Felicia was observant, even more than Michelle even considered herself to be. For all Michelle could figure, Felicia was just seeing patterns where there were none or was trying to manifest something into being. 

Besides, Michelle continued to reason as Cindy talked and Peter grinned at the intern, her and Peter had that _one_ hookup sure, but it hadn’t amounted to anything. For good reason. The whole point of their agreement was that they would one, never talk about what happened at the holiday party ever again and two, keep things professional between the two of them. 

Then again, Michelle thought - if Peter was using their relationship as skit fodder, something that he’d never done before as a cast member and she clearly had never done as a writer - then this was a breach of the “contract” that they’d decided with each other.

“MJ, are you even listening?” 

Michelle snaps back to attention, looking back to Cindy whose concern has turned into exasperation as Michelle winces. 

“Sorry, Cin. Run that by me again?”

“What’s wrong, Jones? Too busy eye-fucking Parker to pay attention?” She hears Eugene loudly call out, Michelle immediately gritting her teeth in fury and embarrassment as Peter, the intern, Cindy and about ten other people look in Eugene’s directions. 

“Fuck off, Eugene,” Cindy calls out, shooting him the finger before gesturing for him to leave. “Get off the set, you and B still need to finish your bit.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Eugene says with a smile and a wink that pisses Michelle off, only to feel even more mortified when Peter looks back at her with a look that she can’t quite place.

He says something to the intern before making a beeline towards her, Michelle immediately looking for an escape route only for Cindy to say, “I don’t know what his problem is lately.”

“He’s always been a little bit of an ass,” Peter says as he walks up to the two of them - Michelle holding her tongue for fear of blurting out something that she’s going to regret as Cindy shakes her head. 

“No, something’s going on. I wonder if he’s worried about those layoff rumors too,” she says, Michelle and Peter both standing a little taller - sharing a glance before Peter asks, “You heard those too?”

“Yeah,” Cindy says, biting her lip in the way that she always does when she’s nervous, something that doesn’t comfort Michelle in the slightest, “I thought it was bullshit but I’ve seen Eugene in and out of Harrington’s office more times today than I think he’s ever been.”

“He’s supposedly sleeping with his daughter,” Michelle finally offers, Peter nodding as if that’s the answer only for Cindy to look unconvinced as she says, “I don’t know. I think something’s up.” 

She shrugs, putting on the no-nonsense expression on her face that Michelle’s grown to know and love as she nods back towards the set. 

“Doesn’t matter. That’s a Monday problem. Right now, we gotta figure out this set. Parker, you got a minute?” 

“Yeah of course,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets before sharing another glance with Michelle, “What’s going on?”

“I was telling MJ about this set. I think…” Cindy starts to tell Peter about the set and Peter, to his credit, does a better job of listening to whatever she’s saying. Michelle on the other hand starts to zone out once again, a thousand things running through her mind as Peter continues to sneak glances back to her - Michelle finally forcing herself to look at the set in front of them. 

If _Cindy_ had heard the rumors about the layoffs - the least gossipy person that she knew - than they had to be true. For all of Eugene’s bravado, it made perfect sense why he would be such an asshole this week compared to the rest - knowing all the ways to push her buttons.

Yet she still can’t shake the knowledge that Felicia knew what happened with her and Peter, her mind immediately rushing to the fact that this secret that they had tried so desperately to keep under wraps had somehow bled out into their interactions anyway. If Eugene knew what happened at the holiday party, he would’ve outed the two of them and held it over their head - no question.

But for him to _not_ know and to still joke about something being between the two of them, all while both her and Peter had subconsciously created a skit that recreated their own friendship was one too many coincidences for Michelle to handle.

Cindy was right, they didn’t have time for this. Michelle had a job to focus on - much less the possibility that she might not _have_ a job come Monday.

It still bothers her, feelings she can’t quite explain twisting around in her gut when she looks back at Peter - seeing that same unreadable expression on his face too. 

  
  


**Friday**

“And therefore I have value?” Betty-as-Gwen says, Peter wildly reacting to the question as Michelle watches from the sidelines.

“No, definitely not that’s-- that’s not what I mean at--” 

“Stop, stop, stop,” the director calls out, Michelle gritting her teeth as Peter seems to do the same - balling his hands into fists before loosening them and glancing back to Harrington, Betty looking just as annoyed as Peter asks, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s cliche,” Beck argues, Michelle shooting daggers at Peter since that had been her exact argument as Beck continues, “Come on, Gwen makes a joke about her appearance and the guy stumbles over himself before she gives a gotcha? What is this, the nineties?” 

Beck flies through the script, thumbs flipping through the pages as Peter seems to silently fume as Beck grabs a highlighter and says, “And this set is just all wrong. Why are they in London? Weren’t they just in Prague the day before?”

“That’s the point,” Peter argues, Michelle’s eyes drifting between him and Beck who just looks at Peter as if he was being an idiot. “It’s meant to lampoon cheesy action rom-com movies, you know. The one we’re spoofing right now?”

Beck waves a hand around dismissively, Michelle’s eyes drifting back to Betty who’s now walked off the set as Beck says, “There’s spoofing and there’s shlock and this,” Beck gestures to the script, “This is shlock.”

Peter goes to argue once more just as Harrington steps in, putting a hand up between the two of them as he says, “Why don’t we take a break? Leeds, you mind running me through the next piece while Beck and Parker figure this out?” 

The crew changes gears as Peter stalks off the set, Beck shooting Michelle a look before saying, “Can you get your boyfriend back here?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Michelle snaps back a little too quickly and too harshly, Beck just rolling his eyes and muttering something she can’t decipher under his breath as he turns away. 

Michelle looks back to the direction that Peter went off to and follows after him, finding him in one of the still empty cast member dressing rooms that makes Michelle wonder just how the hell they’d all been so blind as to not see the layoffs coming. 

Peter is pacing back and forth in the half-empty dressing room, Michelle quietly closing the door behind her as he sighs. 

“Well that went well,” Michelle says, Peter running a hand over his face before resting them on his hips. 

“Fuck,” Peter says, shaking his head. “I thought this was gonna be good.”

In any other instance, Michelle would’ve told him “I told you so” or some variant of it but something holds her back just then, leaning against the door as Peter continues to pace back and forth - taking her silence as an answer as he starts to ramble. 

“This _has_ to be good. What if Eugene is right and we’re on the chopping block? What then? I’m gonna go down in history as the cast member who was released after the shittiest weekend skit ever.”

“Not just you. Me, Felicia probably, Cindy--”

“MJ,” Peter says, giving her a look. “That’s not helping.”

“What do you want me to say? That everything’s going to be great and we’re gonna make it and everyone’s just gonna _love_ it?” She snaps back, Peter staring her down as she leans off the door.

“Yeah actually, that’d be nice. Little vote of confidence in _our_ skit,” he counters, taking a step towards her as Michelle glares at him.

“I’m a realist, Peter. It’s what’s gotten me this far and it’s what’s gonna keep me going. Harrington approved the skit, we’ve got the set built. If shit’s gotta change, it’s gotta change but this,” she gestures in his vague direction, “little pity party isn’t going to solve any problems.”

Peter looks like he wants to argue, Michelle bracing herself for it only to be taken aback when his shoulders sag and he says, “You’re right.”

“You’re damn right, I’m right,” Michelle says but with less bite to it, Peter staring at her for a beat before he smirks as she says, “I mean come on, a European vacation love story? _Really_?”

He laughs, something in Michelle’s gut twisting around at the sound as he says, “Yeah okay, maybe Beck has a point. It felt right at the time, when we were writing it but now… maybe it should be a little more lowkey. Set’s made but we can explain it another way.” 

It’s right there on the tip of her tongue then, the question of whether Peter knew what he’d been doing when he created the skit - trying and failing to summon the courage to ask him what it all meant when he surprises her, taking a step forward as he smiles and says, “Anyway, thanks for working on this with me. Even if this does end up being my last hurrah, I’m glad I got to share it with you.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Michelle quickly says, Peter smirking at her as she continues, “the layoffs could all just be bullshit.”

“I thought you just said you were a realist,” Peter says, taking another step forward. The air in the dressing room changes just then, a familiar feeling creeping down her spine as Michelle says, “I’m a realist, not a pessimist. We don’t know what’s gonna happen next.”

Michelle doesn’t miss the way that Peter’s eyes drift from her lips to her eyes, just as Peter seems to catches himself doing that as he says, “Yeah, yeah of course.”

Later, Michelle would think that it had to be a combination of stress, worry and adrenaline that propelled her forward but in the moment there’s nothing but desire that pushes her forward - a memory of pressing herself against Peter rushing back to her as she finds her body moving on autopilot to do just that.

Peter for his part immediately leans into it, his hands on her waist and his tongue in her mouth so quickly she can barely breathe - letting out a gasp as he pushes her against the door.

“Is this okay?” She pants out as Peter presses himself flush against her, Michelle gesturing behind them to lock the dressing room door as he hums in the affirmative, his lips moving from her mouth to her neck as she feels him against her. 

But any thoughts or questions of what they were doing, what Peter’s intentions had been about the skit and what could happen for the two of them are all pushed away as Michelle grinds herself against him, Peter moaning against her neck and then into her mouth as his hands move to unbutton his jeans. 

Michelle should - objectively speaking - put a stop to this, even if she’s the one who started it. 

She doesn’t, kissing him a bit more fiercely as she moves to wrestle her own jeans off - pushing away any thoughts of regret as Peter pulls her even closer to him.   
  


* * *

  
“What took you so long?” Betty huffs, Michelle looking back at Peter who had the good sense to stay back a little longer when she walked back out, his cheeks still a little too flushed and his lips still a little too swollen as he says, “Emergency call, sorry.”

”Sorry’s not gonna get this skit done. Come on Parker, let’s go,” Beck says, motioning for him to turn back to set. Michelle can see Peter look at her out of the corner of her eye but she tacitly ignores him, the regret that she had so successfully pushed away right before they had sex now flowing through her tenfold.

Michelle has never been more thankful that Felicia is not anywhere near them because she knows that she’d never live this down - inwardly kicking herself for allowing herself to get swept up in the heat of the moment once again with Peter Parker for absolutely no good reason at all.

Hooking up at the holiday party could conceivably be called an accident, at best a terrible decision when they were both drunk. Fucking in an empty dressing room, stone cold sober and with the half the crew waiting for them to come back to set wasn’t an accident, but a choice - one that makes Michelle inwardly cringe with embarrassment and wondering if they did get fired, maybe they deserved it.

Yet it’s only when Peter’s back is turned towards her that she finally looks at him, his hair still ruffled up in the back from how hard she had pulled as he’d rocked into her - making a mental note to get Plan B since for as much as she trusted her birth control, clearly something about being in Peter’s orbit made the universe set out to get her.

But Michelle can’t even try and blame the universe for what her and Peter just did, nor can she try and fool herself into thinking that this skit didn’t mean something more than just being a skit.

She was still undecided if Peter saw the parallels but even if he didn’t, it was abundantly clear that he was feeling something - his eyes drifting over to her just as Michelle snaps her head down to look at her phone.

 _That’s a Monday problem_ , she says to herself - echoing Cindy’s words in her brain as she mindlessly scrolls through the phone, feeling Peter’s gaze on her as she does, a sinking feeling in her gut that when Monday finally came - she wasn’t sure what that would mean for the two of them in more ways than one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So help me I will finish this before the start of the next Secret Santa. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience ❤️


	4. Saturday and Sunday.

**Saturday**

_We’re gonna get fired_ , as Michelle watches the set start to fall apart - crew members frantically trying to fix the set as Peter and Betty workshop some of their lines.

Michelle’s worked at SNL for years and yet she can’t help but think that this - this week from hell and a skit that she can’t stop obsessing over - might finally prove to be her undoing.

Logically, she knows that any rumors of layoffs wouldn’t be decided upon by one failed skit. She’s seen people get away with much worse. 

But it is undeniable how absolutely tragic the state of things are going - an ironic mirror of how her and Peter are currently handling things between them.

Which, Michelle thinks, they’re _not_ \- neither of them saying so much as hello and goodbye to each other in the nearly twenty-hours since they had hooked up in that dressing room. 

Michelle can’t even lie to herself and say it was something as benign as “hooking up” - they’d _fucked_ , filled with a ton of meaning and emotions that Michelle hadn’t let herself really think about in the moment was all she could dwell on as the cast and crew swarmed around her, pretending like she was deep in thought for a rewrite Beck had asked of her twenty minutes ago.

She should focus on her job, the very thing this whole skit was meant to help her not lose yet here she was, an idiot thinking about how Peter’s voice had sounded as he’d panted her name in her ear - the two of them having the good sense to move away from the door but not quite reaching the floor as he’d rocked inside of her. 

It was hot, quick and dirty - literally considering that there was some fabric in there that was forever ruined along with some of her favorite underwear. But it was objectively a mistake, not just for the confusion she feels in the fact that he’d been immediately down for it considering their long-running pact to never talk about the first time around but for the fact that now he can’t stop staring at her. 

Michelle had made no effort in trying to talk to him and Peter for his part had done the same, chalking that up to confirmation that he knew it was just as much of a mistake as she had thought it was. Now it was Saturday, the day that everything this week had built towards, revolving around a skilt that felt like a thinly veiled reference to the two of them - and they weren’t speaking to each other. 

“Jones! Where’s that rewrite?” Beck calls out, throwing Michelle out of her thoughts as she jumps a little. 

She looks up to see Beck, Felicia and Eugene smirking at her - Peter not so subtly looking at her before turning his attention back to Betty as they went back and forth. 

“Got it right here, I’m sending the proof to Maggie before I give it to Mike and Em.” 

“You guys just about done?” Eugene asks, Michelle barely holding back the eye roll that Felicia freely gives. “Harrington said--”

“Harrington’s not here right now,” Felicia snaps back, turning her back to Eugene and rolling her eyes again for good measure as she looks to Beck and asks, “I’ll grab the boards and we’ll do another run through?”

“Yeah let’s go,” he says, waving a hand before straightening his ballcap and turning back towards the cameras. 

Felicia marches straight towards Michelle, a fierce expression on her face as she whispers, “What the hell is going on?”

“What?” Michelle whispers back, her own eyes betraying her as she finds herself looking back to Peter who, unsurprisingly, is looking right at her.

“Oh my _God_ , I know this was going to be a mistake. What happened?” Felicia whispers, Michelle turning her attention back to Felicia only for Felicia’s eyes to widen and Michelle’s stomach to drop.

“MJ, you’ve got to be _kidding_ me.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Michelle whispers back, Felicia giving her a look before tightening her ponytail - one of her own tics for when she had a problem to solve. 

“You didn’t have to, I can see it all over your face. Look, I don’t care what’s going on between you two but you need to _get it together_. We have a show to run.”

“I _know_ ,” Michelle huffs, indignant as Felicia just stares back at her. “This isn’t my first week, Leesh.”

“It’ll be your last if you don’t stop acting like a lovesick teenager. Gwen and Reilly might be weird stand ins for you two but explosive declarations of love and miscommunication is only cute in the movies. This is real life.”

Michelle still feels slightly offended that Felicia would think Michelle doesn’t know that, only for Felicia to sound exasperated as she sighs. 

“ _Talk_ to him. Please. Preferably before the show if that’ll get your head out of your ass.”

Before Michelle can argue that she’s perfectly capable of being professional, Felicia stalks off - only for Michelle to lock eyes with Peter once again, the sinking realization in her gut that Felicia was right. 

* * *

“Are we okay?” Peter whispers, Michelle feeling that same nervous feeling in her gut that she always does right before a show. She knows that something is going on with Peter too since for all the years she’s known him and worked with him, standing at the sidelines with her hadn’t ever been a part of his routine.

The skit itself was still a nightmare. They’d figured out the sets and the _last_ last minute rewrites had changed around the core of their script from being in Europe to being in modern day New York, the two characters now actually characters in a movie. 

It was a meta within a meta, a hook that Michelle _desperately_ hopes works - not just for the possibility of layoffs but for the amount of time and emotional energy she’s spent on this damn skit, more than anything she thinks she’s worked with if only for the one who helped create it with her. 

Which is why Michelle answers honestly against her better judgement, knowing she’d rather get things out in the open now before waiting to blurt them out at the most inopportune moment as she used to all the time in high school as she says, “Not really. I can’t believe we did that.”

Peter huffs out a nervous laugh as people pass them by, Michelle beyond caring about anyone hearing just as Peter seems to recognize how serious she is as he says, “Me neither.”

She wants to say that they were just stressed, that it was a mistake and that they clearly should just shove it away for another time. Yet there’s another part of her that can feel in her gut that this would be the wrong move, a repeating cycle that she definitely doesn’t want to endure - not with the possibility that it could all come undone Monday morning anyway. 

“Is the skit about us?” She asks pointblank, Peter’s smile falling only for confusion to color his expression - the panic and the dread blossoming in her chest that Felicia had been wrong, that _she_ had been wrong - projecting some pattern where there wasn’t one. 

Peter stares at her, searching her face for a moment as he seems to wrap his head around her words - only for a lightbulb to go off that confirms what she already knew in her heart as he says, “Shit.”

“So it wasn’t,” Michelle answers, nodding and chewing the inside of her cheek as she turns away - inexplicably feeling embarrassed only for Peter to lay a hand on her shoulder.

“MJ--”

“It’s fine, Peter. Forget I--”

“No, I didn’t…. I didn’t do it on purpose,” Peter says anyway, Michelle seeing Cindy wave to the two of them in a signal that the show was going to begin. 

But before she can walk away, Peter’s pressure on her shoulder is a bit more more intentional - Michelle looking to him and seeing how gobsmacked he is throwing her off guard as he says, “But maybe my subconscious was trying to tell me something.”

Michelle just stares, Peter huffing out a laugh as he says, “MJ, I haven’t been able to stop thinking--”

“Parker! Jones!” 

The two of them turn only to see Cindy, furiously beckoning her over to them and pointing to the countdown. 

“We gotta go,” Michelle says, Peter looking like he wants to have some kind of cheesy heart to heart right then and there. 

They don’t have time for that, a deep part of Michelle wondering if they ever really should, only to dismiss that feeling as quick as it comes for the look that she’s on his face - a look that tells her that Peter was telling the truth. 

He may not have meant to have brought up the idea as some metaphor for the two of them but if Michelle had come to that conclusion, it seemed as if Peter was just as okay with that interpretation just as he had been for having sex with her in the dressing room the day before. 

Years of interactions fly through her mind just then - all the inside jokes and the interns giggles all looking a little differently now that her focus isn’t on them but on Peter, wondering for the briefest moment if she should apologize for Eugene for being so dismissive to him earlier this week. 

Men and women could absolutely be friends. But the look in Peter’s eyes showed that when it came between them, that’s not all that he wanted. 

Michelle didn’t know if it was the stress, the fear of what could happen on Monday or the memory of the orgasm he’d given her yesterday but all Michelle could think is that she wouldn’t mind if they became something more too. 

She stops him, staring into his eyes for a beat before saying, “Later.”

“Later,” Peter nods in the affirmative, bringing his hand down from her shoulder as the two of them go their separate ways to prepare for the show. 

* * *

Every show is a blur, especially for a writer. Michelle has worked this exact cycle for years yet she never tires of the pure adrenaline that comes from working one of the most famous shows on television - the hustle backstage and the frantic back and forth from cast and crew alike as they try their best to put out fires as they come, working steadily to keep things moving and to roll with the punches no matter what comes their way.

Yet the skit right before hers and Peter’s is spent in a near total state of focus, running back and forth as they adjusted the script boards for last minute edits that came from a few skits before - the thrum of electricity that came with being part of a show that was a living, breathing organism and reminded her of her student theater days in college. 

When the skit arrives, a part of Michelle can’t bear to watch - the briefest moment of panic that this was all a mistake. That it was _too_ meta, too much of a spoof, that even if Beck had changed his tune after elements had been changed around that his initial impression was right - that it was _shlock_. 

But whether it was or wasn’t, it was too late to change it now - not in any meaningful way, gritting her teeth and taking a deep breath as Maggie starts to countdown from commercial break.

She sneaks a glance to Peter who’s found his mark, him and Betty and a few of the other cast members jumping and down in place as they worked out their nerves. 

Michelle doesn’t believe in magic but she does believe in show business, in chemistry, in magnetism. She’s not surprised when Peter looks over his shoulder and locks eyes with her, giving her the biggest and brightest smile that she thinks she’s ever seen as the lights start to move in focus. 

In that instant, Michelle didn’t hear the audience or the cast or the crew. For just a brief moment, it was just the two of them - a whole world of things unsaid and emotions never spoken passing between them as Michelle smiled back. 

They’d done their part.

Now it was time for the show. 

**Sunday**

Michelle wakes up feeling sore, achy and still a little hungover - groaning as the sunlight streaming in from the window of her bedroom forces herself awake earlier than she ever plans on being on Sundays. 

She does a tentative stretch only to wince a little from the low grade headache she can still feel in the back of her head, rolling it slightly and moving her hand only to freeze when the person next to her starts to move. 

Michelle blinks her eyes open a few times and looks over to where Peter seemed to be waking up himself, burrowing his head into her pillow as he murmurs something.

“What?” Michelle croaks out, her voice shot from last night’s activities - both at the after party and _after_ the after party. 

Peter lifts his head up, scowling at her as he says, “Why don’t you have blackout curtains?”

“Cause I like the sunshine. Theoretically. I paid too much for this apartment not to appreciate the view,” she counters, finally stretching a little more before turning to her side - Peter yawning as he rubs a hand over his face and curls one of her pillows underneath his arm as he sits up on his elbows. 

“Didn’t take you for a morning person,” he murmurs, looking sleepy as Michelle smirks. 

“Didn’t take _you_ for a blanket hog.”

Peter playfully rolls his eyes before saying, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Jones.”

“You’d be surprised, Parker,” Michelle says as her smirk turns into a smile, Peter smiling back as she says, “I’m very observant.”

“Are you?” He says, leaning forward to kiss her only for Michelle to wrinkle her nose and lean back.

Peter looks confused for a moment before Michelle says, “I know this thing is new but we should set up some ground rules.”

Peter blinks, squinting his eyes only to burst out laughing when Michelle continues, “For example, morning breath? Hard pass. Pack a toothbrush next time.”

Michelle can’t help but join in from how hard Peter is laughing, shaking the bed in a different way than they had been a few hours before he sits up and says, “Okay got it, anything else?”

“You’re gonna need to take notes. The list is exhaustive and very specific,” Michelle says with a grin, Peter laughing only for both of their phones to buzz - the two of them turning towards the bedside table. 

Michelle doesn’t make a move towards checking in just as Peter doesn’t, Michelle turning to him as he asks, “Think we got fired?”

“Maybe,” she sighs, pressing her face into the pillow and closing her eyes as she says, “I haven’t checked the reviews yet.”

“The crowd seemed to like it,” Peter says cheerfully, Michelle opening one eye and seeing a reassuring smile.

It’s the same smile that he’d given to her right before the show, the same smile that he’d given right after the skit had ended - the cheers and the laughs from the crowd still ringing like an echo in her ears. 

The show had gone off without a hitch, relatively speaking. The audience had laughed at all the right moments, the cast had all hit their marks and the last minute jokes that Michelle had fed Peter - inspiration in the seconds before he’d delivered the line but had delivered perfectly as if he’d been practicing them all week - a kind of synergy that made her hope they have a chance to do more co-writing together in the future. 

Yet the chance for doing more co-writing or not didn’t seem like it would have an effect on their closeness anyway - Peter’s very presence in her bed a signal for Michelle that maybe no matter what the reviews said or what they faced walking into the office tomorrow morning, that this thing between them was a new beginning anyway.

She’d sought him out at the after party to talk only to be taken aback by the gleam in his eye, a look that told her that for as much as Peter had wanted to talk about this thing between them before the show, that wasn’t anywhere on his radar for the rest of the night. 

Hooking up at the holiday party had been a mistake, fucking in the dressing room had been a choice but the way her and Peter tangled together - sneaking out of the after party like they were lovestruck teenagers, messing around on the cab ride home and finally coming together in her bedroom made her wonder why she’d ever been so reluctant in the first place.

It hit her while she was riding him, Peter’s eyes rolling into the back of his head as his hands grabbed at her hips that they could’ve been doing _this_ for years - wondering as Peter took hold of her and thrust his hips why they hadn’t thought to at least be friends with benefits.

But it’s a truth that came to her just as she actually came, collapsing on top of Peter as he continued to move inside of her - the recognition that sex between the two of them was never going to be casual.

Now, staring at him as he stared right back at her - the smile on his face growing wider as he leans down to mirror her stance - Michelle was almost glad that Eugene’s fear mongering had pushed them together this week more than they had ever really been before.

Michelle knows she’ll be singing a different tune come Monday, even sooner the moment they check their phones - the anxiety of reading a review of the show competing with her desire to have a peaceful Sunday.

Just as he had been last night on stage, Peter seems to be on the same wavelength - pushing a curl that had fallen loose from her bun away from her face as he says, “But we don’t have to check it now.”

“We should,” Michelle says, Peter smirking as she continues, “I hope they’re good.”

“I thought you were a realist,” Peter says with a grin, Michelle laughing as Peter’s hand moves to her waist - bringing her closer as she says, “A girl can dream.”

“Only if you dream of me,” Peter says, Michelle groaning as she rolls her eyes, only for Peter to kiss her.

“Ground rule number two, no bad jokes in bed,” she says between kisses, Peter moving to hover her as she glares up at him.

“But that’s where all my best material comes from,” Peter says innocently, Michelle laughing only to be cut off again by his lips - running her hands up and down his back as he starts to grind against her.

“No wonder you’re getting fired,” she whispers into his ear, Peter’s scoff and no doubt sarcastic remark getting cut off when she reaches down between them and takes him in hand - Peter panting as he says, “That’s low.”

“Not low enough,” she says, pumping her hand up and down only for Peter to distract her with a kiss again - her laugh turning into a moan as he retaliates by grinding against her again.

“Is that a challenge, Jones?”

“Only if you’re up to it, Parker” Michelle says as Peter lifts his head up, staring at her with a look that causes her stomach to twist into knots for all the best reasons.

Michelle knows rationally that they could be walking towards the end of their SNL careers tomorrow, a problem that Michelle has worked too hard and too long to not take seriously.

But there’s a conviction in her gut, as solid and as heavy as the look Peter’s giving her just then that tells her that even if the worst is still to come tomorrow - that even if they bombed the show and the layoffs were real - that at least they would face it together. 

Peter wasn’t her enemy or her competition and after this week — was definitely more than just a friend. 

Considering her options, Michelle thinks as she smiles, she could take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you it would be soon ;) 
> 
> Special thanks to blondsak for cheering me on to the finish line. All my love to Emma who had the greatest patience in the world waiting for this. 
> 
> ❤️❤️❤️❤️


End file.
